Faster
by WritingxEqualsxHappiness
Summary: A series of twenty-two 50-word moments between Booth and Brennan that I think explain why the promo song Faster is the perfect song for them. Oneshot.


**I don't own the song or the lyrics. It's the song from the promos, Faster by Matt Nathanson. I think the song is absolutely perfect for Booth and Brennan's relationship, and here are 22 reasons why, each one exactly 50 words long.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em><strong><span>Faster<span>**_

_You're so delicious_

"What kind of pie did you eat at the diner?" she asked suddenly, pulling away from his lips and licking hers.

"Apple," he breathed, watching her tongue intently.

"Mmm. It tastes delicious," she mumbled, breathing heavily.

"You hate pie."

"Not when it's on you." And then she kissed him again.

* * *

><p><em>You're so soft<em>

"You used a new shampoo," Booth said, taking back his case file.

She looked at him curiously. "I don't understand the significance of that fact."

"Your hair is softer," he told her, using a hand on her shoulder as an excuse to feel it again.

"If you say so, Booth."

* * *

><p><em>Sweet on the tip of my tongue<em>

"You've got some whipped cream on your lip there, Bones." He pointed with his fork and a smile. "Want me to get it off?"

"I'm entirely capable of wiping my mouth with a napkin," she told him and gave him a strange look.

"I was trying to be nice here."

* * *

><p><em>You taste like sunlight<em>

"What are you doing?" he asked in wonder, staring at the white substance covering her nose.

"I'm going to sit outside in the sunroom while I read Mr. Bray's dissertation defense," she told him, grabbing her sunglasses.

"Always prepared for the worst, aren't you?" He smiled and shook his head.

* * *

><p><em>And strawberry bubblegum<em>

"I bet I can blow a bigger bubble than you!"

"I doubt that. I won the bubblegum blowing competition in my elementary school three years in a row," she said seriously. "I was seven-eighths of an inch away from setting a world record."

"I'm all for a little friendly competition."

* * *

><p><em>You bite my lip<em>

"Ow!" Booth brought a hand to his lower lip.

"What?"

"You bit my lip."

She frowned. "You shouldn't push your lip out when I'm about to laugh, then."

"Why would you laugh while making out with someone?"

"I was imagining Cam accidentally walking in on us, occupied as we are."

* * *

><p><em>You spike my blood<em>

"I'm not spiking the punch, Bones," he insisted.

"Why not? It's intended to look like blood and blood has been shown to have intoxicating effects when consumed." His face wrinkled in revulsion.

"Michelle will be here."

"I'm certain Michelle has consumed alcohol on numerous occasions by now."

"And you're pregnant."

* * *

><p><em>It's the way you swell slow<em>

She looked up from her notes and found him staring at her.

"Why are you staring at me?"

"What? No reason." He pretended to look through his file again.

"Are you pleased by the manifestation of your sexual success?" she asked, gesturing at her ever-expanding abdomen.

"Maybe a little bit."

* * *

><p><em>Pushing right outta your seams<em>

"Booth?" she called from behind the closed bathroom door.

"Hm?"

"I need you to bring me a new pair of pants."

"Why?"

"I ripped these in the process of pulling them on."

"I'm not even gonna ask."

"It's a common occurrence, Booth."

"Can't you just sew them back together?"

"No."

* * *

><p><em>It's the way you smile, baby<em>

He paused in his laughter to say, "You have a beautiful smile."

Her laughter stopped, too, and she smiled shyly.

"Thank you. I've never been told that before."

"I don't believe that."

"It's true. In fact, you've said a lot of things to me that I haven't been told before."

* * *

><p><em>When you've got me on my knees<em>

"What color is it?" Booth called out from under the bed.

"Black."

"If you couldn't sew your pants, how come you can sew a button back on your shirt?"

"I'm not sewing it back on. I just don't want the baby to eat it."

"He wouldn't be under here, though."

* * *

><p><em>Your all night noise<em>

The tapping was driving him crazy.

"Can't you save that until tomorrow?" he complained, pulling the pillow over his head.

"Do you want my analysis or not?" she asked, peering over her laptop at him.

"I don't at three in the morning."

"I'll go finish it in the kitchen then."

* * *

><p><em>Your siren howl<em>

Her piercing scream caused him to trip over his feet trying to find her.

"Bones! What's wrong?"

"Snake, Booth, snake!"

"Snake? In the backyard?" He found her dancing on a chair in front of the snake.

"It's a little garden snake, Bones."

She stepped down, trying to regain her dignity.

* * *

><p><em>'Cause I jump, I crash, I crawl<em>

"Booth? What was that noise? Where are you?"

"Here," he groaned. Her head peeked over the back of the couch.

"Why are you on the floor?" she asked curiously.

"I jumped over the couch to get the phone and I fell."

She looked at him disapprovingly before helping him up.

* * *

><p><em>I beg, I steal, I follow you<em>

"Bones, please?"

"Your peace offering will have to be better than that," she said primly, pointedly staring intently at her computer.

"But I picked these from the garden," he almost whined. That got her attention.

"You of all people should know that's considered stealing from the Jeffersonian."

"Flowers count too?"

* * *

><p><em>Only you own me<em>

"I believe Doctor Hodgins would call you 'whipped'," she told him matter-of-factly.

"I am not," he said indignantly.

"I would call it 'owned'," she conceded.

"That sounds worse."

"Men in some ethnic groups in Africa strive to be owned by the women."

"Well, I'm proud to be owned by you."

* * *

><p><em>You rattle my bones<em>

His moan shook with the vibrations.

"I didn't expect you to react this strongly to a massage chair," she said.

"It feels so good," he told her, his o's drawn out. "It's vibrating my bones."

"Maybe you should turn it down."

"No way. Thanks, Bones"

"Happy anniversary, Booth."

"Oh, yeah."

* * *

><p><em>You turn me over and over<em>

"The best way to explain it is to show you," she said excitedly.

She grabbed the back of his swivel chair and spun it around with him in it.

"Stop, stop! Mercy!" He dug his heels into the floor to stop the spinning. "I'm gonna be sick."

"That's morning sickness."

* * *

><p><em>'Til I can't control myself<em>

"What in the world is all of this?" She was flabbergasted by the near mountain of hair bows on the table.

"Aren't they great? There was a sale on baby accessories."

"Did you buy the entire store stock?"

"I couldn't help it! We're getting so close now," he said excitedly.

* * *

><p><em>Make me a liar<em>

"You look amazing," he told her.

"This is most likely from hormones, but I look like a whale." She frowned at her reflection in the mirror.

"Oh, no. You look great." But he smiled too wide.

"According to Angela, saying it twice means you're lying to make me feel better."

* * *

><p><em>One big disaster<em>

"I'm not ready for this, Bones," he panicked, staring at her in trepidation.

"You can't say that," she whined, holding her dripping leg to the side.

"What? Why?"

"You've done this before! If you're not ready, I'm not ready!"

"You're right, I'm sorry, Bones. At least I get a choice."

* * *

><p><em>You make my heart beat faster<em>

This was better than when he saw Parker born, because here he was with someone who loved him as much as he loved her. He watched her in pain for hours, and when that baby slipped right out, he was amazed. His heart thudded as he watched his family grow.

* * *

><p><strong>So? What do you think?<strong>


End file.
